Passage

Carl’s fists tightened, the skin between the bruises white. His face under the tan had gone white, too. It looked sodden, like something pulled out of the water. “Where were you, Carl?” Richard repeated.

“Richard — ” Kit said and put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Where were you?”

“I — ” Carl said and took a wavering breath. “It — ” This is it, Richard thought. He’s going to tell us.

Brring. The sound of the cell phone exploded into the silence like a bomb.

No! Richard thought, watching Kit scramble to get it out of her bag. Not now.

“I’m sorry,” Kit said, trying to shut off the ringing. “I didn’t know this was on.”

“Quite all right,” Carl said. His color had come back.

He looks like somebody who’s just heard the bugle call of the cavalry coming to rescue him, Richard thought. “Go ahead,” Carl said. “Take your call.”

Kit sent Richard an agonized glance and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

It will be Mrs. Gray, wanting to know where the sugar is, Richard thought. Or the mustard.

“Oh, hello, Vielle,” Kit said. “Yes, he’s here.” She handed Richard the cell phone.

“Excuse me,” Richard said and walked over to the fireplace. “Vielle—”

“What’s going on? I got this garbled message from one of the interns. Honestly, you’d think they could deliver a simple message—”

“I can’t talk now,” Richard said, his hand over the receiver. “I’ll call you back.”

“You’ll never get through,” Vielle said. “It’s a total disaster here. The fog—”

Richard switched the phone off. “Good-bye,” he said to the dial tone and handed the phone back to Kit. “Sorry,” he said, turning to Carl.

“Perfectly all right,” Carl said. “Where were we? Oh, yes, you were asking me what I remember of my coma, and I’m afraid the answer is, nothing at all.”

Damn you, Vielle, Richard thought. He was going to tell us. “The last thing I remember is my wife putting me in the car to go to the hospital,” Carl said. His hands on the arms of the chair were relaxed, steady. “She was having trouble getting my seat belt on, and the next thing I know this nurse I never saw before is opening the curtains, and this friend of yours comes in and talks to me for a few minutes, maybe five minutes at the most. She asked me how I was and we chatted a little, and then she stood up and said she had to go.” He smiled at Kit again.

“What did you chat about?” Richard said.

“I don’t really remember.” Carl shrugged. “I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t remember about that first couple of days. The medications. I suppose that must be true for the dreams I had while I was in the coma, too.”

“You said they weren’t dreams,” Richard said.

“Did I?” Carl said easily. “I meant I didn’t remember having any dreams.”

You’re lying, Richard thought.

“Here’s your tea, Carl,” Mrs. Aspinall said, coming into the room. She handed him the mug. “And after you drink it, I think you should lie down. You look pale.” She laid her hand on his forehead. “And it feels like you’ve got a fever. I’m sure Dr. Wright and Ms. Gardiner will understand.”

“Sorry I couldn’t help you,” Carl said and turned to his wife. “You’re right, I am tired. I think I will lie down.”

“I’ll show Dr. Wright and Ms. Gardiner out,” Mrs. Aspinall said, “and then I’ll come back and get you settled.”

They stood up. “If you remember anything,” Kit said, “please call us.”

“I doubt if I’ll remember anything,” Carl said. “Dr. Cherikov said the more time has passed, the less I’ll remember about the whole thing.”

“Which is good,” Mrs. Aspinall said. “You need to forget about what’s past and concentrate on the present, and the future. Isn’t that right, Dr. Wright? I want to thank you for coming.”

End of interview. Mrs. Aspinall led them quickly down the hall to the front door and helped them into their coats, obviously anxious to get rid of them so she could get back to her husband. “It was so nice of you to come all this way,” she said, opening the door.

They went out onto the porch. “I’m sorry my husband couldn’t be more help,” she said.

“Maybe you can help us,” Richard said. “Your husband told Joanna something that put her on the right track. Something he remembered from his coma.”

“He told you, he doesn’t remember. His memory of his time in the hospital’s very hazy—”

“But he might have said something to you,” Kit said, “after he woke up. Made some reference to what he saw or—”

Richard interrupted. “Your husband said the things he saw weren’t dreams,” Richard said. “Did he say what they were?”

Mrs. Aspinall looked uncertainly down the hall toward the family room. “Please,” Kit said. “Your husband’s the only one who can help us. It’s so important.”

“What’s important is my husband’s recovery,” Mrs. Aspinall said. “He’s still very weak. His nerves — I don’t think you understand what a terrible ordeal he’s been through. He was this close to death. I couldn’t bear to lose him again. I have to think of his welfare—”

“You said Joanna was kind to you — ” Richard said.

“She was,” Mrs. Aspinall said, and took her hand off the door.